


The Stuff of Legends

by Shoshanna Gold (shoshannagold)



Category: The OC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-27
Updated: 2004-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:18:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoshannagold/pseuds/Shoshanna%20Gold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note One: Title inspired by Smallville, although honestly, more the fandom than the show.</p><p>Note Two: I was reading a fic the other day co-authored by something like six different people, and in the notes they said, "It takes a village…" That certainly applies to this fic! At various points, <span class="ljuser i-ljuser"><a href="http://lugonn.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://lugonn.livejournal.com/"><b>lugonn</b></a></span>, <span class="ljuser i-ljuser"><a href="http://rihani.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://rihani.livejournal.com/"><b>rihani</b></a></span>, <span class="ljuser i-ljuser"><a href="http://torchthisnow.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://torchthisnow.livejournal.com/"><b>torchthisnow</b></a></span>, and <span class="ljuser i-ljuser"><a href="http://missdeviant.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://missdeviant.livejournal.com/"><b>missdeviant</b></a></span> all consulted on it, and I'm so grateful to all of them for holding my hand through this, as well as at so many other times. I didn't think this story was ever going to make it out of the WIP section of my files, but I was talking to <span class="ljuser i-ljuser i-ljuser-deleted"><a href="http://pinn2480.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://pinn2480.livejournal.com/"><b>pinn2480</b></a></span>, and suddenly felt like all was possible again. Huge thanks to her and to <span class="ljuser i-ljuser i-ljuser-deleted"></span><a href="http://algernonthemous.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://algernonthemous.livejournal.com/"></a><b>algernonthemous</b> for the wonderful beta jobs. I have a lot to learn from them about quick turn-around, among other things!</p><p>Note Three: I didn't name the dog! Full credit for that goes to Jer, who is no doubt glaring at me and muttering something about definitions of productivity as he reads this. Right he is, too!</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Stuff of Legends

**Author's Note:**

> Note One: Title inspired by Smallville, although honestly, more the fandom than the show.
> 
> Note Two: I was reading a fic the other day co-authored by something like six different people, and in the notes they said, "It takes a village…" That certainly applies to this fic! At various points, [](http://lugonn.livejournal.com/profile)[**lugonn**](http://lugonn.livejournal.com/) , [](http://rihani.livejournal.com/profile)[**rihani**](http://rihani.livejournal.com/) , [](http://torchthisnow.livejournal.com/profile)[**torchthisnow**](http://torchthisnow.livejournal.com/) , and [](http://missdeviant.livejournal.com/profile)[**missdeviant**](http://missdeviant.livejournal.com/) all consulted on it, and I'm so grateful to all of them for holding my hand through this, as well as at so many other times. I didn't think this story was ever going to make it out of the WIP section of my files, but I was talking to [](http://pinn2480.livejournal.com/profile)[**pinn2480**](http://pinn2480.livejournal.com/) , and suddenly felt like all was possible again. Huge thanks to her and to [](http://algernonthemous.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://algernonthemous.livejournal.com/)**algernonthemous** for the wonderful beta jobs. I have a lot to learn from them about quick turn-around, among other things!
> 
> Note Three: I didn't name the dog! Full credit for that goes to Jer, who is no doubt glaring at me and muttering something about definitions of productivity as he reads this. Right he is, too!

Ryan leaned against the glossy bar of the Hyatt's ballroom, nursing a scotch and water and watching Seth chat up Marcy, VP Finance for the Newport Group. Seth was good at parties. So much better than Ryan was. Seth could talk to everybody, and always have lots to say. Ryan's colleagues loved hanging out with Seth at these parties, because even though he was the boss' son, and the other boss' grandson, and hell, their future boss' lover, he made them feel at ease.

Seth had a special touch with the newest employees. Despite the combined party-throwing skills of Julie and Kirsten, who went to every possible length to make the party as welcoming and as fun as possible, some would still be nervous, and a little reserved. They'd come up and say hello to Ryan, who would introduce them to Seth, and Seth would rise to the occasion. It wasn't something they'd planned, or had even known would happen the first time, but Seth could draw the most introverted first-year intern out of her shell. He'd ask a couple of questions, make a joke or two - usually at his grandfather's expense - and within minutes they'd be laughing. Half an hour into every party held by the Newport Group, Seth would have a crowd surrounding him, all of them chatting away. Ryan knew that Seth was truly talented at drawing people out when Lacey Marks, a talented but shy interior designer, had started singing "Merry Christmas Tree" in a perfect contra-alto the year before, and then hugged Ryan. Before that night, she'd said maybe five words to him, and three of them had been 'hello', 'good-bye', or 'coffee?' Since then they'd chatted in the halls every time they passed, and Ryan had requested for her to work with him on his first solo project, the renovation of a small office building in San Diego.

He thought about his first time at one of these parties as both an employee and a family member. It was just after they'd moved back to Newport, after Ryan had finished the MBA program at Stanford. His job was demanding enough; while he hadn't endured the same sort of digs that had been made the summers he'd interned and worked construction for the Group, he was worried about the talk might start after the party. He didn't really care, but it would make the days tougher for a little while if people decided to get nasty after they saw how deeply embedded he was in the Cohen family. Saw Kirsten pull him close for a hug, as she often did after a bottle of wine or two. Saw Sandy throw his arm around his shoulder, and talk about "my boys, the incredibly smart ones". Heard Caleb's toast to his family, the one he made just after he toasted his employees.

Ryan had just about fallen over the first time Caleb had included him in that toast. The year after he and Seth had come back to Tahiti, their first year of college, Caleb had gestured to them and said, "And without my beautiful daughters, Haley and Kirsten, and Kirsten's great family, Sandy, Seth, and Ryan, this company wouldn't be possible, or even worthwhile." Sandy had looked like he was about to have an aneurysm at that moment, and Seth had stepped closer to Ryan and said, "Grandpa's getting soft in his old age." Ryan had only nodded, but Seth had seen the spark of emotion in Ryan's eyes, and taken his hand, lacing their fingers together.

So, yeah, Ryan had been worried. And not only about talk of nepotism, but about Seth, too. Most people at the office knew that Ryan was gay, knew that he was, in effect, fucking the Nichol heir apparent. For most people it was just gossip, not really part of the image they had of Ryan as a colleague, and in some cases as their boss. But he and Seth were often openly affectionate, and he'd worried that they'd see him with his arm around Seth's waist, or the two of them sneaking a kiss by the bar, and somebody might make a comment to Seth later about buying himself a boyfriend, or to Ryan about sleeping his way to the top. It had been years since Ryan had hit anybody, but he was ready to do it that night. It hadn't been at all an issue, though, since Seth had picked up on Ryan's tension at the beginning of the night, and made himself scarce, careful not join any group Ryan was a part of. For half the night, Ryan had endured the polite cocktail conversation alone, until he'd seen Seth head to the washroom. He'd excused himself from a boring discussion with the company's chief comptroller, and followed Seth.

"We going to do this all night?" he'd asked, a bit roughly, ignoring the attendant sitting on the little gilded chair.

Seth had shot the attendant a look, and the man had left. Ryan was reminded that Seth had spent his entire life dealing with hired help, and found himself even more annoyed then he had been before. "Nice way to treat people," he'd said, jeeringly.

Seth, because he was Seth, had known that Ryan wasn't talking about the towel guy at all. He'd shot Ryan an exasperated look, and then stepped up to a urinal, undoing his pants. "Christ, Ryan. Look, dude. I'm trying to do you a favour. So don't come in here and be an utter dick while I take a piss. This night already sucks badly enough. I'd like it if we could wait until we got home to have this fight, so we can just entertain my parents instead of the entire fucking company and half of Newport, not to mention that poor guy who just wants to hand out towels for the lousy six dollars an hour or whatever he gets."

Ryan had nodded, and waited until Seth was finished washing his hands. Then he'd stood behind him at the sink. He was just tall enough to rest his chin on Seth's shoulder, to look at them together in the mirror. The two of them were a study in contrast, blond against dark. They looked like they fit in the room around them, though, their dark suits complementing the walnut counter, the burgundy and gold walls. Some days Ryan couldn't remember a time when his life hadn't been comprised of nights like this, when he hadn't gone to parties in elegant and lush surroundings. When his nights hadn't been lit with the soft glow of lamps, wealth diffusing any problems. "I don't want to have this fight at all."

"You've been a jerk for the last three days, Ryan, and you should have seen the look you gave me when we got here. It's clear that you don't want to be here, don't want me to be here, and really don't want people to know that we're together. Which is stupid since they all know anyway. But anyway, whether you want to or not, there is going to be a fight. It's just not going to be here."

Seth had tried to move away from the counter, but Ryan pushed forward a little, keeping him pinned there. "I didn't say anything like that." He watched Seth, hoping for the tension in his face to relax, for Seth to grin at him again, and let him know that they were going to be fine.

"Dude, when are you going to get this? You don't have to say anything to me, all I need to do is look at you to know what's going through that fucked-up head of yours. At some point I became a goddamn clairvoyant when it comes to you, Ryan. God knows when that happened, since I've never been the most emotionally perceptive guy in the world. Eloquent, maybe. Funny, definitely. Perceptive, not at all."

Ryan would have grinned a little, if he hadn't known it would just piss Seth off further. His boyfriend's psych class had obviously had some kind of effect on him. "It was Tahiti," he said, nuzzling Seth's neck a little. "All that time on the boat, with nothing to do but talk to each other. We know each other better than any one, now."

Seth stepped sideways this time, turning to face Ryan. "Do not be cute. And don't talk about our sacred voyage when you've been a schmuck all night. If we know each other so well, how come you can't tell me what's going on with you. Is it me? Is it the gay thing? Why can't I figure out what's up with you right now?"

Oh, man. He hated it when Seth's face twisted in that awful combination of anger and pain that only their fights caused, hated the edge of anguish in Seth's tone. And inexplicably, horribly, he began to feel a million times better. "It was stupid," he said, wanting put wrap his hand around Seth's hip, to slide his hand under the linen jacket and feel his boyfriend's warm back. "I didn't know I was that worried about this until we got here, until I pissed you off."

Seth's face relaxed a little, and Ryan let himself take a breath. "I didn't even know what I was worried about," he continued. "It wasn't that they'd all know that we were gay, because they already know that. And it wasn't that they'd know we're together, because they already know that, too. I thought it was that somebody might say something dumb that would hurt you, or but now I don't know if that was really it, either. Because you can take care of yourself. So God, I don't know."

Finally, Seth reached out to him. Ryan let himself be pulled close, wrapped his arms around Seth's back and just listened to their breath for a minute. "Maybe it's just because this is the first party where you're really working for the company," Seth said, his breath hot on Ryan's cheek. "And that you are so many things at once. You aren't just the new guy, or the guy who's dating the boss' kid, or the gay guy. You're all of those things, and it's a lot deal with. Not that I don't think you can't do it. Because I know you can. You can do it better than anyone could, Ryan. You're like Superman and Lex Luthor together. Only gay. And with hair. Blond hair."

Ryan took deep breath. They were going to be fine. And Seth had a good point. "I think it's because they were really going to see me tonight," he said, putting a hand on Seth's neck. "Usually these people only get to see parts of me, you know. It's like you said: they see the new guy, or Kirsten's kid, or their future boss. But tonight I'm with you, and that's who I really am. So even though they barely know me, they get to see all of me. That makes me nervous." He shrugged.

"Deep, Ryan, so deep." Seth used his most geeky, nasal voice, and Ryan grinned. This was why he could say things to Seth that he couldn't say to anybody else on the planet. Seth wouldn't make a big deal of it, which Ryan would have hated, but he would have heard it, and it would add another layer to the intense intimacy that encapsulated them. In a week or a month, Ryan would catch Seth looking at him like he was seeing the innermost part of Ryan, and know that he was thinking about those words, about this night.

Seth grinned back at him, and then leaned down and kissed him. What started out as a soft brush on his lips got intense pretty fast, as the last of the tension that had been built over the last couple of days worked its way out of their bodies. Ryan finally put his hand under the Seth's jacket, slide it over the warm soft cotton his shirt, and then under it, smoothing the small of Seth's back, moving down to slip a hand under his waist band. Seth moaned low in his throat, but pulled away.

"I don't want to come out of here looking like we've been fucking."

Seth's eyes were limpid, and his mouth was wet. Ryan got a little harder, thinking of all those things that soft mouth would do - had done - to his body. He bit at Seth's lips a little. "Why not? That's what they think we've been doing in here anyway."

They kissed for another minute, and then Seth said, "If you make me come, Ryan, I'm going to be a zombie for the rest of the night. I've already had a couple of drinks, and it'll just knock me out. And then I'll miss something, and Dad will make a joke, and it'll be terrible. And the poor towel guy is probably tired of keeping people out here. Think of the towel guy, dude."

The thought of the towel guy, and of how Kirsten smiled knowingly whenever she thought he and Seth had been going at it did it for Ryan. He pulled away, and nodded. Seth was right. Not that Kirsten wouldn't grin anyway, but at least this way Ryan could smile back innocently, and mean it. Kind of. "Finish this at home?"

Seth nodded, fervently. "At home, in the jeep on the way home, in the room upstairs we're going to have to get because we can't wait until we get home. All good options."

Ryan leaned in for one last quick kiss, running his hand through Seth's curls. They smoothed out their clothes, and left the bathroom, Seth stopping to tip the attendant, who grinned at them. It could have been the fifty Ryan saw change hands, or maybe the guy had had a fight or two in bathrooms himself. Ryan had looked at the gold band on the man's left hand, and knew if they weren't so young, if Seth didn't have such violent opinions on the heterogenization of gay culture symptomized by the marriage issue, he'd be wearing one himself.

They'd walked back into the hotel ballroom holding hands, and sure enough, Kirsten tossed him a look. He grinned back, and they wandered, hand in hand, over to where the Cohens were standing.

Seth had continued charm people the rest of the night, Ryan by his side. Their hands stayed linked, and nobody had said anything.

Things had changed at work after that party, though. Ryan knew that he sometimes put people off. He was quiet, and when he did talk, he was very direct. He didn't have the Cohen gift for jabber that Sandy and Kirsten had passed off to Seth, didn't let people in as easily as they did. But after that night, Ryan had noticed the difference in how the people he worked with treated him. It was like they'd decide that anybody who was with such an outgoing guy couldn't be all that uptight himself, and they just relaxed. Ryan found himself relaxing more in response, and his job, which had never been terrible, became that much more fun. And he'd even come to enjoy the Christmas party, though, really, his favourite part was watching his lover work the crowd.

Sandy came up and ordered a drink. "How you doing, kid?" he asked, ruffling Ryan's hair.

Ryan grinned at him. "I'm good."

"You've been standing here a while, I thought I'd check on you. You and my other kid have a fight?" Sandy leaned against the bar, elbows behind him, his stance a perfect imitation of Ryan's.

"No, we're fine." Standing here with Sandy made him realize how much he sometimes missed him. Even though he and Seth weren't living that far from Newport, they'd been so busy. He worked a lot, trying to live up to his own expectations, and Seth was teaching two undergrad classes at USC while trying to finish up his doctorate at the same time. "I'm looking forward to Chrismukkah."

"Yeah?" Sandy flashed a surprised, pleased look at him. After all these years, they were still thrilled whenever he opened up, talked about himself even a little. "We're looking forward to it, too. Seth's going to be in his element."

Ryan nodded. They were hosting the holiday this year, since they were finally living in the house they'd been planning and building for more than two years. It was supposed to have been finished in time for the holidays the year before, but there'd been problems getting some of the wood Ryan had wanted, and they hadn't been able to move in until spring. Right now, there wasn't a surface of the house that wasn't covered with tinsel, dreidels, or wrapping paper. "Yeah, he's going all out."

There was a burst of laughter from the group Seth with, and both Sandy and Ryan looked over there. "He's so good with people," said Sandy, taking a sip of his drink. "I know I've said this to you before, but we were so worried before you came along. He didn't have friends, and he just didn't seem happy. And then he just bloomed, when you showed up. Look at him now. I don't know how he finds the energy to just go and go the way he does."

Ryan just shrugged at him, and was about to say something about Seth having coffee running through his veins instead of blood, but then Summer came over, and the conversation turned to the marketing strategy for the new housing development in Chino that Ryan had proposed.

As they drove home, though, he thought about the conversation with Sandy. They'd stayed at the party until practically dawn, and Seth hadn't once stopped being the consummate host, had looked like he was nothing but happy to stay and talk until all hours. But he'd gotten in the passenger side when the valet pulled up with the Jeep, and mostly stared out the window during the drive. Seth was always quiet on the way home from events like these, and Ryan had figured out, after being initially freaked out by his uncharacteristically silent partner and asking lots of anxious questions the first few times, that it didn't mean that Seth hadn't had a good time.

He was quiet, too, and he knew that Seth needed that from him, that he needed Ryan's hand below his on the gear shift more than he needed to debrief about the party. It was how they operated, why they worked so well together when they were still so different. Seth took care of the stuff Ryan had trouble with. He could strike up a conversation with anybody, would break the ice so Ryan would have a place to fit, and Ryan was grateful for it, knew that with Seth he could do anything, learn to talk and laugh with any one. They drew their strength from each other, as well as their comfort and their hope and everything else, really. And when Seth was tired, Ryan was there, not to catch him or save him, but just to lean into.

They stayed mostly quiet as they walked into the house. Seth went up to their bedroom while Ryan let the dog, Pancake, out into the grassy side yard. He walked around the house for a few minutes to give the lab time to take care of business and stretch her legs. He loved the house at night, loved hearing the ocean move quietly against the beach as he looked at the walls, the intricacies of the moulding, the line of the ceiling broken up by skylights. He'd imagined this house for years, changing details or redesigning it every time he learned a new style or school of design at college. When they'd finally been ready to build, he'd known exactly what he'd wanted, down to the knob on the bathroom doors.

Pancake finally barked at the screen door, and Ryan let her in, and then headed up to their room, closing the door before the dog could come in after him. Seth was already in bed, reading a magazine. He looked up when Ryan came into the room. "Took you long enough," he remarked.

"She needed to run around a little," Ryan said, pulling off his tie. "She was inside all night."

"Well, now that you've taken care of Pancake's needs, come take care of mine," Seth's tone was mockingly seductive, and Ryan grinned at him. He slipped off his shoes and socks, and then took off his shirt, pulling out the studs as slowly as possible. "Ryan, you're killing me here." Seth said, his voice tight. Ryan made a show of dragging his t-shirt over his head as slowly as possible, but relented when Seth groaned, pulling off the rest of his clothes as quickly as possible.

"It's about time. I almost perished from sexual frustration tonight, you know. Watching you in a tux all night, doing that cool James Bond thing that you do. When you were standing by the bar with a drink, just watching me, I almost lost it. I thought to myself, 'nobody will mind if I throw Ryan over the bar and ravish him, right? It's Newport. At least I wouldn't be punching anybody or inciting mayhem.'" Seth's hands were moving all over Ryan's body as he talked, stroking and pulling, creating fires and then adding more kindling with tongue and teeth. Ryan moaned as Seth's lips slid down his belly, as his legs were parted, and Seth's tongue slipped over his balls, pulling them into his mouth. He dragged Seth up for a kiss, and Seth complied, reaching for the lube as he did, slick fingers stretching Ryan, Seth covering him, filling him.

Hot hands stroked up and down his chest, slid over the legs Ryan had wrapped around Seth's back. Ryan writhed under him and Seth's eyes opened, still talking, always talking. "God, I love you, I'm gonna fuck you, keep my cock deep in your ass. Oh, God. Give me -" He was cut off as Ryan arched up and pulled Seth's mouth to him, swallowing the words, sliding his tongue in and out, trying to match the rhythm of Seth thrusting into him. Seth latched onto his mouth, filling it with teeth and tongue and even more words. Ryan was open, aflame, consumed. He needed - God, he needed. "Seth, please. Let me give you -"

Instantly, Seth's hand was on his cock again, his strokes heavier, swifter. "Give it to me, Ry. I want it. Oh, God. I want everything. I want -." Ryan pushed up into Seth's hand, pressing their bodies together, coming as Seth kissed him again, his world reduced to the heat of those hands, to the press of Seth deep within him, to the warmth filling him everywhere.

Seth collapsed on top of him, shivering, and Ryan wrapped his arms around him, shifting so that they were on their sides, spooned tightly together. Seth pressed into him, moving arms and legs back so that they were resting on Ryan's and they were tangled up in each other. Seth's breathing deepened as Ryan kissed the back of his neck softly, and Ryan could feel his lover's muscles relaxing, the energy that had carried him through the day finally giving way to well-earned peace. He held Seth close, thinking lazily about the morning, bagels and coffee in bed, reading the paper with Pancake between them, Seth making him laugh by reading the comics and yelling about the deterioration of the noble medium, until his thoughts turned into dreams, and he slept.


End file.
